


Faze

by exowriternet



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9437366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exowriternet/pseuds/exowriternet
Summary: Office parties are fun until you get too drunk to remember them.





	

            You’ve never been that good with alcohol. Sure, you enjoy a glass of wine or two on the weekend to wind down with a nice bath, but you’ve never actually gone to party and drank to get drunk. You don’t even know how you are drunk. Nobody knows how you are drunk.

            Until that fated, dreaded office party that you rather repress deep into the recesses of your mind.

            Now, to set things straight, you must remember that your best friend decided to ditch at the last minute and you were going to be stuck at a party where the majority of your coworkers were men, all of them are bad, or women who took this job too seriously. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but once those girls get drunk then they try to get with every single guy in your office. To be fair, nearly every guy in your office is extremely attractive with good qualities.

            Except one.

            Well, it’s not that he isn’t attractive and lacking good qualities, it’s just that Jongdae is the only other coworker who is constantly in competition with you to have the best and highest sales every month. Every. Month. You two go back and forth for the highest sales every month and you wish more than anything else Jongdae would stop trying so hard and let you be the best salesperson in the office. He is just too determined, and confident, and his laugh is a testament to how good his voice sounds and you just wish he would let you be the best salesperson. Then again, without his daily competition, you’re not sure you would be so motivated to work so hard.

            Which is what this party is supposedly for. Your boss said he’s supplying all the liquor and finger foods an overworked person could ask for, so your office of about 20 people could drink the Friday before Christmas away and not have to spend their bonuses on cheap rum and whiskey themselves. But once your best friend decided to take an early holiday, you weren’t looking forward to the party anymore.

            “Hey,” Baekhyun says, swaggering up to your desk. “You going to the party tonight?”

            You don’t look away from your computer. He was one of your few coworkers who really didn’t care about his job, so he’s fine in your book. “I guess,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “But Minah isn’t going anymore, so what’s the point?”

            “For the possible hate sex between you and Jongdae, of course,” Baekhyun says so matter-of-factly, taking a sip from the coffee he’s holding.

            You immediately give him a death glare but he shows no reaction, nonchalantly taking loud sips from his coffee mug. “Go away, Baekhyun.”

            He sends you a cheeky grin as he walks away, and you roll your eyes and go back to work. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you could finish this early and sneak out before the party starts. Just as that thought crossed your mind, you caught a glimpse of Baekhyun chatting up Jongdae across the office, and you felt a surge of determination to finish your work rush through you.

 

> 

 

            Except, things never really go the way you wish they would. You finished your work early, but another friend of yours came to you to beg for help on finishing _her_  work so she could make it to the party on time. Being in your vague holiday mood and wanting to spread good cheer or whatever, you complied and helped her finish up. Which put you on the regular, off at 5pm schedule you were hoping to avoid. Now the office party is coming closer and you’re pretty sure your boss is guarding the door to make sure nobody leaves.

            So you meander your way to the restroom to fix your hair a bit and unbutton the top two buttons of your blouse. There’s no way you’re going to suffer through an office party looking like a secretary, so you take off your blazer and let down your hair, and find another coworker in there who offers you her liquid lipstick. You graciously accept it, and wonder what the ratio is of girls to guys hoping to get laid tonight. You have extreme faith in your female staff members to woo anyone, and when you return the lipstick, you know _she_  is gonna get a good lay.

            At least your boss is announcing the office MVP of the year, and it’s really only a competition between you and Jongdae, so your chances of winning are sky high.

            You take one last look at yourself in the mirror, decide you look vaguely like a sexy librarian, and left the restroom to stash your blazer in your desk. You notice everyone is already leaving the work floor to go up a few levels to the actual party, so you grab your purse and follow strands of people to the elevators, shooting a text to Minah begging her to come join you at the party.

            The elevator doors open to the top floor of your building, and you’re slightly surprised at the dimmed lights and holiday decorations. Everyone files out of the elevator, all buzzing with excitement to drink in the company of coworkers, but you make a beeline to the food. Minah replied to your text with a simple “ :-) “ so you figure you’re alone tonight.

            “Hey.”

            You look up from deciding which devilled egg to eat to see Jongdae standing two feet away with a baby carrot in his hand. He gives you a half smile, to which you return.

            “So,” he continues. “Mr. Lee is announcing the year’s MVP. Who do you think it’ll be?”

            You successfully ate a devilled egg in one bite, and grabbed a tiny plate to fill with tiny foods. “Well, it’s really only between you and me, so probably me.”

            He laughs and you hate how indifferent and happy it sounds. “We’ll see about that,” he says, and you catch his gaze and see a flash of something mischievous.

            “Why can’t you accept defeat?” You ask, half joking but mostly serious, and you take a few steps closer to him to grab a few bell peppers and carrots.

            He doesn’t move like you expected him to, which is fine, but slightly unnerving. “Why accept defeat when I can win?” He quips, failing to subdue a smile that takes over his face. “We’ll see who the real victor is when it’s announced.”

            Jongdae winks at you, actually winks, and laughs a little at your surprised face before turning on his heel and walking away. You take a second to regain your composure and take your small plate of food to the nearest table to sit down. Somebody comes and sits down beside you, setting a cup of something in front of you.

            “This tastes good, I swear,” Baekhyun’s familiar voice says, gesturing to the cup before taking a sip from the cup he was holding.

            You side-eye him, never fully trusting him. “What’s in it?” You ask, taking a couple bites of food from your plate.

            He simply gives you a smile over the rim of his cup. “Taste it and find out.”

            What the hell, you think, grabbing the cup and taking a swig. It was incredibly sweet, a bit bubbly with carbonation but it tasted like cake. You didn’t taste any alcohol, so you took a few more sips before setting it down. “What’s the catch?” You ask him, but when you turn to face him, he was gone. With a shrug, you finish your drink and small plate of food, and stand up to go mingle and get yourself another one of those sweet drinks.

            Baekhyun slyly feeds you those drinks all night, making sure you have a cup in your hand at all times. You don’t mind, it tastes good and keeps you occupied, and you start to loosen up as the night goes on. You talk and talk with your coworkers, soon forgetting that Minah ditched you tonight, and as Baekhyun hands you your fifth drink, you realize that he’s totally getting you drunk.

            “Baekhyun,” you slur, thanking the cosmos that you still can make words. “What is in this drink?”

            He hides a smile. “Just, like, cranberry ginger ale. And cake vodka.”

            You gape. “Vodka?”

            “It’s good though, right?”

            You hesitate. You slowly take another sip. “Yeah, it’s good.”

 

> 

            It all sort of hits you at once. When you were just standing there, leaning against the wall and talking with a few girls about how there’s an unspoken dress code, you didn’t really feel drunk. You got the fuzzy feeling in your limbs, and if you looked around too fast the images blurred together, but you didn’t really feel drunk. But when your boss called for everyone to come for the announcement of the year’s MVP, you pushed yourself off from the wall and felt _everything_ _._ The world was nearly spinning and swirling towards the ground, but you focused on one spot and walked in what you hoped was a straight line towards the gathering of people. It’s official, you’re drunk. Your mind immediately went to “how am I going to accept this award drunk?” instead of more pressing issues such as how you were going to get home.

            But, as you boss makes a speech you don’t really hear, you manage to stay standing. You force yourself to focus, which is probably the most difficult thing ever in the whole world, but you do it. You focus on his words, when—

            “And, to my surprise, there are two people who had the exact same sales margin! So we have two people to congratulate today… Jongdae and ____!”

            If you were going to black out at any point in time tonight, it would’ve been now, but you were so in awe at the possibility of this happening that you didn’t. Instead, everyone around you was cheering and urging you towards the front of the crowd, and mindless drunk you went with the flow. You were standing next to Jongdae in front of everyone, and with your lack of balance, you were leaning against him for support. He didn’t seem to mind, or you couldn’t tell if he did, and he even placed a hand on the small of your back to keep your standing. You hate how comforting it is.

            “Do either of you have anything to say?” Your boss asks, a large smile on his face.

            Jongdae laughs, and you can tell he’s a bit nervous, but he doesn’t step away from you. Granted, he’s supporting half of your weight, but this feels a bit too friendly for you.

            “Well,” he starts, voice loud and proud. “I guess if I was to share this award with anyone, I’m glad it’s you,” he says, smiling down at you. “You’re the best competition a guy could ask for.”

            There’s applauding and a few wolf whistles, but Jongdae just laughs them off. He urges you to stand up straighter, a sign that you should say something, too. You take half a step forward, and you’re pretty sure everyone in the room knows you’re completely drunk.

            What happened next is a serious blur to you. You don’t really remember it, but multiple swear up and down that it happened. Maybe you’re just blocking it out, refusing to remember it, because—

            “Well,” you sigh, eyes scanning the crowd. “To be quite… quite honest, I do not hate Jongdae.” Everybody laughs and you’re not really sure why. “I just hate his competition. In fact I— I think I love him. I just really fucking hate his competition.”

            You hear one laugh and you know it’s Baekhyun. A few other people stifle laughs, but everyone eventually starts clapping like they’re supposed to, but you don’t remember what happened next because somebody was pulling you away from the crowd.

            You were really feeling the alcohol in your system by now, and whoever was guiding you out of the room and into the stairwell was your savior.

            “You’re really drunk, huh?” It’s Jongdae, and he’s holding your waist with one hand and a cup of water with the other. “Drink this.”

            “I am no longer taking strange drinks tonight, sorry,” you say, and he laughs.

            “It’s water,” he explains. “See?” He takes a sip from the cup himself, then offers it to you.

            You take it, and bring it to your nose to smell, and you take a very small sip to confirm it’s water. It is, and you down the whole cup in a few gulps. Jongdae immediately takes the cup from you, makes you grab the stairwell railing, and leaves to presumably get more water for you. In the second that he’s gone, you take a deep breath, thankful that the air here is colder than in the room, and you slowly sit down on the stairs. He comes back once you’re sitting and takes a seat besides you.

            “Was it Baekhyun?” Jongdae asks, handing you another cup of water.

            “Yes,” you groan, taking sips from the cup. “And his mixed drinks.”

            “Ah,” Jongdae tuts. “Those are dangerous, but I take it you know that by now.”

            You side eye him but can’t help but smile, and he smiles back. You share a silent moment of… _something_  before you take another sip of your water. “Thanks for dragging me out of there,” you mumble.

            “Of course,” he says, voice quiet like he’s nervous to talk about what happened in there. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

            “That would be much appreciated,” you say, finishing your cup of water. Like an idiot, you stand straight up, ready to go, but you sway so hard on your feet you briefly think you’re going to faceplant down the stairs.

            But Jongdae has a steady hand around your waist again, and he’s guiding you down the stairs one at a time. You tell him your stuff is in your desk, and you both take a detour to the work floor to get it. Once you have your blazer back on and your purse in hand, somehow he successfully guides you out of the building and into his car in the parking lot. Starting to feel more tired than drunk now, you manage to give him your address and fall asleep with your head against the passenger window before he even left the lot.

            Vaguely, you recall Jongdae helping you into your apartment, and onto your bed, and then everything is lost in the expanse of your memory. You think you might’ve said something to him, something soft and nice, to which he laughed lightly at, but you’re not sure. You might’ve seen his face flush red at your words, but you don’t remember, because the next thing you do know is you woke up at 2pm the next day with a ripping headache.

            But there was a glass of water by your bed and some advil, which you happily take. You figure you can sleep the day away, and have some proper time to nurse your hangover and embarrassment before going back to work on Monday. That’s an experience that you would want to be drunk for.

 

> 

 

            Minah wouldn’t stop calling you on Sunday, but at least she had the decency to let you stew in your own headache and dehydration on Saturday. You pick up maybe the fourth or fifth time she calls, not to share in the gossip you know she has ready, but to get another perspective on what really happened at the Friday evening party. You have a patchy memory of the event, you know that Baekhyun snuck you mixed drinks and effectively got you drunk by the time the MVP award was given… to you and Jongdae. You don’t remember an acceptance speech, but you’re pretty sure you gave one. The next thing you do remember is a very nice person driving you home and getting you into your bed. But who was it?

            “Minah, seriously,” you grumble into the phone after letting it ring a few times. “What do you want?”

            “ _I want to know what you remember, if anything,_ ” she blurts out through the receiver. “ _I can’t believe I missed such drama!_ ”

            “What drama?” You ask, getting yourself another cup of coffee. Your hands are vaguely shaking but you blame the caffeine. “I remember up to sharing the award with Jongdae.”

            Minah tut-tuts you over the phone. “ _Fine, you’re gonna have an interesting day back tomorrow._ ”

            And then she hung up.

           

> 

 

            You went into work on Monday as you usually do, a cup of coffee from the cafe downstairs in your hand, your bag over your shoulder, and eyes trained ahead to wordless tell people “don’t talk to me”.

            Which, is fine, because nobody talked to you, but you could hear them talking _about_ you. You couldn’t help but throw glances this way and that when you heard somebody whisper your name, and by the time you got to your desks you felt like the hottest topic in the office gossip pool to date. You kept your head down and mindlessly threw yourself into your work, thanking the distraction, until—

            “ _Well,_ ” Baekhyun says loudly and dramatically, leaning against your cubicle wall. “Wasn’t that a _party_?”

            “I don’t remember all of it, but fuck you,” you hiss between your teeth. “Those drinks tasted so good and I hate you for it.”

            Baekhyun simply let a Cheshire smile flourish across his face, not even granting you the dignity of telling you what happened before he practically skipped away from your desk. Frustrated, you reach for your coffee cup only to find it’s entirely empty. Stress drinking coffee is better than stress drinking alcohol, you guess, but as you get up to head to the kitchen for more you decide you should drink decaf.

            You enter the kitchen to find it practically empty, save for Jongdae making a pot of coffee. He throws you a look over his shoulder, seems like he wants to say something, but faces front again without a word.

            You hover around for a moment, trying to remember a semblance of anything from Friday to talk about with him, but come up short. “What kind of coffee are you making?” You ask.

            “Decaf,” he says, seemingly strained. “It’s almost done, so you can make regular coffee in a second.”

            You come up to the counter and peek over his shoulder. “Mind if I have a cup of that? I’ve already had too much coffee today, but I love the taste.”

            Jongdae takes a step away from the coffee pot and gives you a nervous smile. “Sure, I accidentally made a lot.”

            You give him a regular smile, to which he tries to mirror, but you can tell it’s a strained effort and he focuses his attention back on the coffee pot.

            It’s nearly silent save for the drip of the coffee. “I’m gonna be honest with you,” you start, and you see fear in his eyes when he looks back up at you. You suddenly feel really bad, and you’re not sure why. “I don’t remember anything that happened Friday after the boss called our names for the MVP award.”

            Jongdae raises both of his eyebrows in disbelief. “Not a thing?”

            “Nothing,” you sigh, leaning against the counter. “I remember being taken home, but I’m not sure by who. I really can’t remember anything and I really hate Baekhyun for it.”

            Jongdae laughs, and you really like that sound. “His drinks are pretty devious.”

            “They are,” you agree, watching as he takes the pot of finished coffee and sets it on the counter. “Mind filling me in on what happened?”

            He bites his lip as he grabs two cups and fills them with the coffee. “Well,” he starts, handing you a cup. “We got the award, I said some mindless acceptance speech, and then you confess your love to me in front of everybody.”

            You were just about to grab the cup from him when he said that, and you’re really glad you didn’t because you would’ve dropped it. Slowly, you take the cup from him, suffocating in the silence between you two as you take a sip of the coffee.

            You quickly glance up at him and then back to your coffee. “Really?”

            “Yes,” he breathes out quietly, taking a sip from his own cup. “So I took you away from the crowd, made you drink a lot of water, and drove you home.”

            It’s silent again as you both awkwardly sip your drinks. There’s a good minute of dead air between you two as you both try to think of what to say.

            “Well,” you mumble. “Thank you for trying to lessen my embarrassment, and sorry for saying… that…in front of everyone.”

            He takes a long sip of his coffee and you really hate everything right now. “Sure,” he says. “It was, uh, interesting.”

            A blanket of silence falls over you, and you kind of want to sulk out of the room.

            “How about we pretend it never happened?” You suggest.

            Jongdae peers at you over the rim of his cup, and you have a vague feeling he’s smiling. “Why would I want to do that?”

            You roll your eyes and give him a condescending smile, wondering what trick he’s trying to pull. “Because it was awkward and embarrassing?”

            “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, getting the coffee pot and filling his cup again. “But that doesn’t mean it was bad.”

            You watch him closely, trying to process what he’s saying. “What do you mean?”

            He turns your way again, this time a big smile on his face as he nonchalantly takes a sip of his coffee. “You embarrassed yourself in front of everyone saying you love me, how is that bad?”

            You set your cup down on the counter. “B-because it was embarrassing!”

            “But it got you to admit it.”

            “I mean, I guess, but it was awfully embarrassing.”

            Silence.

            He’s watching you with this subdued, dorky smile on his face and you can’t quite figure out why. There’s a few more seconds of silence as you try to decipher his smile and this conversation, when—

            “So you do admit it?” He asks.

            “Admit what?”

            “That you love me.”

            You blink a few times, process his words and immediately feel your face heat up. Without a word, you grab the coffee pot and refill your cup, and begin walking out the room. “Let’s make a deal to never talk about this again!”

            You hear Jongdae let out a hearty laugh. “Can we talk about it over dinner?” He calls out to you.

            At the door, you pause, and glance over your shoulder. He’s smiling, a sincere smile, so you know he wasn’t joking. “Fine,” you mumble. “But nothing fancy.”

            “Deal,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments to support the author! Thank you!


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